Hide Your Love Away
by shesmyfavorite
Summary: Why is it always the things we can't have we yearn for the most? Especially when it is absolutely forbidden...forbidden like Hermione Granger is to Draco Malfoy. Rated M for future content... DMHG!
1. I Bloody Hate Everything About You

A/N: I don't own anything Harry Potter related- just incase you thought maybe I did.

**Chapter One: I Bloody Hate _Everything_ About You**

Draco Malfoy sat lazily with a bored expression on his face only partially listening to Dumbledore ramble on about the upcoming year and how new and exciting things were going to be. Draco silently scoffed at the old man and his perpetual ability to look on the bright side of life. _Not everything is sunshine and roses, not even at Hogwarts you old coot_. In fact, most things at Hogwarts were quite the opposite of sunshine and roses to Draco Malfoy. It seemed to be either raining or snowing constantly, and all the plants they played host to either had the ability to bite your face off or could poison you to death when your back was turned. How he loathed this place. Draco shifted his weight slightly in his seat and sighed heavily, causing Pansy next to him to stir out of her concentration and look over at him suddenly.

"Are you alright?" she leaned over and whispered in his ear. Draco scooted over slightly to avoid her being so close and gave her a look of annoyance and disgust.

Bloody women and their prying into things. Can't a man sigh without being bothered about it? Needless to say, Draco Malfoy was in a foul mood and Pansy was just the person who possessed the abilities to drive him deeper into his dark mood. Besides maybe Hero Boy Potter or that wretched Mudblood who always was with him. The damned _Golden Trio_ or whatever they were calling themselves these days. Like a bloody cult or something ridiculous like that.

"Don't touch me," Draco drawled, turning his body to face another direction. Pansy feigned hurt and made a "humph!" type sound that Draco chose to ignore. He was very skilled with his selective listening. It was at that point where Draco received a painful jab to his left side from Blaise who was sitting on the other side of him.

"Do you _want_ me to kick your arse?" Draco bellowed, clutching his sore ribs. Blaise glared at him.

"_Go_, you wanker!" Blaise whispered with venom, pointing at the front of the Great Hall where Dumbledore and all the other teachers stood with… _Granger?_ She was giving him a fierce look and had her arms folded across her chest. He could almost feel the daggers she was shooting out of those eyes of hers at him. Draco stood up slowly and took his time to wander up to the front, his dark robes billowing behind him. No, the Malfoy's never passed up an opportunity to be dramatic.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him and Draco had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "As I was saying, Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy are our new Head Girl and Boy for this year, so treat them with respect and courtesy. You never know when you may find yourself in a bind and they may help you out…" Dumbledore's gaze traveled over to where Harry and Ron sat before changing topics quickly and commencing the start of term feast. Once everyone had begun talking loudly and filling their plates with all the delicious foods the house elves had prepared, Dumbledore turned to Draco and Hermione.

"Welcome back, my two top students…" a smile twitched on his lips. Draco and Hermione simply gave each other their best death looks. "I have complete confidence that you two will work together beautifully and break some age old tension and grudges in your last year here." Draco snorted at this statement, causing Hermione to narrow her eyes at him so much Draco wondered if she could even see out of them at all. Just as he was about to test her eye-hand coordination, Dumbledore ushered them back to their seats and encouraged them to try and reach a common ground. Hermione whipped her head around so fast her hair was mere inches from slapping Draco in the face, and power walked back to the Gryffindor table to reclaim her seat in between the _Chosen One_ and the Weasel. Draco began walking slowly back to the Slytherin table, exhibiting how Malfoy's were never in a hurry to get anywhere. Because, the world revolved around them, right?

"Bloody Malfoy…" Ron murmured with a mouth full of food as Hermione plopped down next to him. A few specks of half-chewed food projectiled out of his mouth and landed in her hair, but she didn't seem to notice. "That git is always thinking he's better than everyone else. Just look at the way he walks- it's more like a bloody _swagger_. Stupid git…" Ron continued to mumble quietly until he shoveled another mouth load of potatoes into his mouth.

"Are you going to have to work closely with him this year, Hermione?" Harry asked her, his eyes full of concern. Hermione eyed her raven-haired friend fondly, taking notice of his worry. Harry was always one to look after her, much like a big brother. Sometimes she resented him for it, Ron as well, because they were overly protective at times. They did not approve of Hermione hanging around other boys too much, their reasoning always the same "I know how boys are, Hermione, and he's not wanting you to help him study…". Boys. Blech. Hermione certainly thought so.

"Yes, I'm sure Dumbledore will come up with something that involves us having to spend ridiculous amounts of time together. I should just murder him now so I can do it all myself…" Hermione grumbled, eyeing the steak knife close to her with a sudden interest. Harry, noticing her unusual homicidal tendency, edged the knife away from her slowly.

"Surely you can speak with Dumbledore, he'll understand that Malfoy is an insufferable prat and you- well- you just shouldn't have to be near him because you didn't ask to work with him. It makes logical sense." Ron commented, spraying more food around. Hermione furrowed her brow at him.

"Don't speak with food in your mouth, Ronald," she snapped. Ron stiffened at Hermione's comment.

"Don't bloody take it out on me that Malfoy's got you all frustrated. I'm offering you words of wisdom!" Ron scowled. Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes with her hands.

"I'm tired." She stated. "I'm going to go to bed and read, I think." At this, she got up and started to make her way out of the Great Hall. There was a lot on her mind, and being around her friends was comforting at times, and stressful at others. Sometimes Hermione Granger needed to be by herself, sit in the library and read a nice book, or take a long, hot bath to ease the troubles out of her mind. And oh, were there troubles in her mind. One particular one kept throbbing in her brain like a headache, but she was trying with all her magnificent brainpower to make it go away. Somehow it kept creeping back up on her when she would least expect it. The way Draco's body looked when he strode over to the front of the Great Hall. The way his sharp features were cut at such angles it made him look like he was etched out of marble. Holy Cricket what was Hermione Granger thinking? Detestable, despicable, horrendous _Draco Malfoy_? It was right then Hermione decided she needed to go straight to bed and sleep off the temporary insanity that plagued her.

"I must be mental…" Hermione breathed quietly to herself. One more thought of Draco Malfoy and she would ship _herself_ off to the loony bin- overnight packaging and all. By this point, Hermione had reached the portrait that allowed her to enter into the Heads Common Room. And suddenly, it dawned on her that she had absolutely no idea what the password was.

The woman in the portrait smiled at her with kind eyes- if there was such a thing.

"You must be Miss Granger?" the lady asked. Surprised, Hermione nodded her head. "Very well, enter for now, but whenever Mister Malfoy decides to retire you two must work together to find a password you both will remember. Call it your first assignment together." The lady seemed overly cheerful, and Hermione found herself deciding she did not like the portrait one bit. Overly cheerful people freaked her out, because honestly, didn't everyone have at least _one_ bad day? Hermione faked a happy smile and thanked the portrait as it swung open to allow her to enter. She walked to the center of the room to observe it.

The common room was not quite as large as Hermione had pictured it in her mind. The first thing she noticed about the room was the high, vaulted ceiling that lay above the circular room. The walls were painted a deep crimson and Hermione smirked wondering how much Draco was going to like that. Directly across from her was a large fireplace that was roaring heartily and a couch parallel to it. There was a bookcase (_Thank Merlin!)_ and a large desk against one of the walls made out of a dark mahogany looking wood. Hermione saw there were three doors branching out from the common room, one to her left, one to her right, and one behind her. The one to the left had a scarlet and gold banner draped across it while the one on the right had a silver and green banner. Hermione used her deductive reasoning to conclude the last door must be their bathroom.

Hermione was about to walk into her room for bed, (screw waiting up for that git) when she heard the portrait open up again, and Malfoy came striding in. He stopped when he realized she was standing in the middle of the room like an idiot.

"We'd best set out some rules. Number one- leave me the hell alone and don't speak to me unless I speak to you first." Draco spat. Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she set her hands on her hips.

"Where do you get off talking to me like that? I'm a _human being_, Malfoy!" Hermione burst. She was expecting this- she didn't know why she was acting so surprised.

"No, Granger you're a Mudblood. A nasty, dirty little mudblood. It's bad enough I have to live within a hundred feet of you." Anger flashed like lightening in Hermione's eyes.

"Don't call me that, Malfoy, I'm not going to warn you again." Hermione's voice had dropped low and dangerous. Draco smirked at her; amused she was actually attempting to threaten him. _Him_! Oh, what a mistake. He walked closer to her so that he was only inches from her face.

"What the hell are you going to do about it… _mudblood_?" Draco whispered, sneering. Hermione went to punch him square in the jaw, but he caught her arm instantly and snapped it back down to her side. When she went to hit him with her other one, he did the same thing. "That's just about what I thought. Absolutely nothing."

"Fucking let me _go_ you bastard! I'm going to _kill_ you!" Hermione shrieked, her face turning a brilliant shade of red. Really, she hadn't expected him to be so cat-like with his reflexes. Damn it, Hermione, damn it! "I hate you, Malfoy! I hate everything about you and your whole family! You're just like your sodding father- everything about you! _Let me go this instant_!" Her voice was reaching a decibel shrill enough to shatter glass. Draco's face had paled at the mention of his father. After a few more seconds, Draco released her with a slight push and stalked into his room, slamming the door shut. Hermione stood rooted to the ground, trembling with rage, and- could it be- fear? Taking deep breaths, Hermione turned around and walked into her own room, letting it slam as well. _Take that, Draco Malfoy, take that_! Her wrists were stinging from his grip, and they looked slightly red. She was going to kick his arse- he practically gave her two Indian sunburns! What the hell? Who does that? Nobody does that to Hermione Granger, that's for damn sure. And she was going to make it quite clear he was _never_ to lay a finger on her again or some serious arse kicking would most certainly ensue.

After Draco had slammed his door, he directly went over to his dresser and looked in the mirror. All he saw was the same old face staring back at him, both hands resting on the top of the dresser and slightly hunched over. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Draco saw a flash of Lucius' face replacing his own. Just as quickly as it had happened, it was gone. Draco's face darkened and he punched the mirror as hard as he could, resulting in it shattering into millions of tiny shards all over his dresser and spilling onto the hardwood floor. His fist was now bleeding, little pieces of glass stuck in him, but he didn't care. At least he wouldn't have to look in the mirror anymore. At least he wouldn't have to see Lucius. Little did Hermione know, she had struck an incredibly sensitive nerve when she compared him to his father. It was one of the most severe things one could say to Draco, and he wasn't likely to forget it.

(…)

The next day Hermione awoke early to take a shower before breakfast. She was heading across the common room with her towel and basket of shower necessities, when Draco emerged from the bathroom. He was clad in dark denim jeans with a long sleeved black button down. And, much to Hermione's dismay, he smelled _fabulous_. Really, what kind of shampoo did he use? It probably cost about a million galleons.

Draco did not acknowledge her, and Hermione was perfectly fine with that. As Draco moved out of the way, Hermione reopened to bathroom door and locked it soundly behind her. Just in case he was a crazy pervert. You never could tell.

After a refreshing and rejuvenating shower, Hermione opened up the bathroom door quietly, and padded softly out. She was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of Draco Malfoy and another girl sitting face to face on the couch- and Draco was _stroking_ her cheek! Hermione would have been less surprised if she had witnessed him punch the girl in the face. Apparently, Hermione was unnoticed, because the girl began to slowly close the gap between the two of them until their lips met softly. Draco was kissing her _softly_! What the bloody hell! Draco knew what _soft_ was? Hermione was utterly speechless and horrified, but she couldn't turn her head away. It was like a car crash- she wanted to look away but her head wouldn't turn. The two were kissing quite passionately now, the girl even bit down on Draco's lower lip and Hermione saw him smirk slightly. _Turn away, Hermione! Turn away!_ His left hand cradled the girl's head and he gripped her hair so that she moaned softly. Okay, that was enough.

"Ahem." Hermione cleared her throat and watched the girl jump about three feet off the couch, her face blushing furiously. Draco, however, did not appear to be abashed at all. On the contrary, actually, he looked very disappointed his little rendezvous was interrupted so unpleasantly. "In the future, Malfoy," Hermione's voice was as cold as a Canadian winter, "keep you private life _private._ As in, your _room_. I don't want to watch you eat anyone's face off." Hermione huffed and stormed into her room.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it won't happen again-" the girl cried out, terribly embarrassed, but Hermione slammed her bedroom door shut. _The nerve of that egotistical bastard_! Hermione seethed. She recognized the girl as a sixth year Ravenclaw, quite pretty actually. Her name was Natalie something or another. Bitch. Hermione gasped aloud. _Bitch?_ Oh dear, this was going farther than originally anticipated. Stupid Malfoy and his stupid stunts. It must have been his shampoo that lured the girl in. She made a mental note to destroy that shampoo bottle the next time she saw it. Blast it into a bazillion little smithereens.

(…) After about half an hour, Hermione decided it was safe to reemerge from her bedroom. She had decided on wearing her trusty pair of denim jeans- they had been with her since her fifth year and she loved them dearly. They had acquired a few holes throughout the years, but none of them were in ridiculously revealing places, so Hermione wore them. She paired her jeans with a plain white t-shirt and let her hair fall in loose curls down her back. Hermione was never one to wear a lot of makeup, but something about today made her feel like she should freshen up a little more than usual. She convinced herself that it was because she was Head Girl now, and Head Girls don't go strutting around Hogwarts with frizzy hair and no mascara. No sirree. So, after applying a tiny bit of makeup, Hermione dashed through the common room, paying no attention to Draco who sat on the couch reading a book. She was inches from the portrait when he drawl sounded.

"Granger, I suggest we decide on a password before you go galloping around the castle like you own the place…" Draco spoke without even looking up from his book. He turned the page as if he didn't have a care in the world. And is if Hermione hadn't caught him snogging a girl mere minutes earlier. Hermione scowled and crossed her arms. Damn it. He was right.

"Fine. How about _passage a l'enfer_?" Hermione suggested. Draco looked up at her incredulously.

"What the bloody hell is that nonsense?"

"It's _French_ you prat!" Hermione snapped. Draco glared at her as he set his book on the couch and stood up.

"I bloody _know_ what it _is_, Granger. It's a stupid idea is what I was trying to get through your abnormally thick _skull_." Draco hissed.

"Well then you pick the sodding _password_!" Hermione roared.

"Fine!" Draco bellowed back at her. "How about _I bloody hate everything about you?_"

"Fine!" Hermione cried, her face flush in anger. Draco scowled at her.

"Are you leaving or _what_?" he asked, frustrated. Hermione whirled around.

"Yes! Because you're impossible and despicable and I loathe you!"

"Good!"

"Great!"

"Fine!"

"_Fine_!" Hermione screamed as she slammed the portrait shut. Oh, today was off to just a brilliant start. If only she'd know what was to come, she would have been whistling and skipping while she still could.

A/N: Yay! First chapter is up! Hope everyone likes it- by the way, this is set to happen as if HBP never happened. REVIEW!

-shesmyfavorite


	2. Rugby, Anyone?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a cell phone and Ryan Dyer.

**Chapter Two: Rugby, Anyone?**

Draco was fuming. _Women_. Hermione had stormed out of their common room only seconds earlier and Draco had half a mind to storm after her and yell some damn sense into that bloody brain of hers. It was going to be a long year, no doubt, and Draco wasn't sure if he was going to make it without cursing her into oblivion. Despite the fact that he had grown up in an extremely abusive and cold household, Draco had somehow managed to come out of it all knowing it was wrong. On one hand, Draco knew he had control over himself and his actions, but that other half of him was a firecracker. And Hermione Granger sure knew how to light his fuse. _Deep breaths_, Draco told himself with his eyes closed in concentration. Because of his temperamental side, Draco had learned to practice deep breathing exercises to calm himself down. Sure, he felt like a pansy doing it but it beat the hell out of having to go to Azkaban after Avada-ing someone.

Draco paced the room a few times, all the while taking deep breaths and counting silently. After a few minutes of doing this, he felt his blood pressure go back to normal and knew he was safe to enter the real world. Right as Draco was preparing to leave, he noticed a note on the desk that wasn't there as of last night. Striding over to it, he recognized the cursive writing at once as Dumbledore's. Flipping open the note, Draco's eyes scanned the parchment quickly. Groaning, he stuffed his wand into his trouser pockets and grabbed his book-bag before hurrying out of the common room after Hermione.

(…)

After spotting her friends at the Gryffindor table, Hermione marched over and sat down next to Ginny, who was munching on a piece of toast.

"Good morning, Gin. Sleep well?" Hermione asked absentmindedly while she grabbed a blueberry muffin. Harry and Ron nodded in her direction and mumbled their hello's. Hermione had gotten used to the fact that they were far from morning people, and had gotten into the habit of chatting with Ginny instead.

"I suppose so. Malfoy didn't try and kill you in your sleep I see. Or vice versa…" Ginny took another bite out of her toast and looked at Hermione with meaningful eyes.

"Not exactly. We did get in a bit of a spat this morning though. He's such a prat, it's hard to hold any kind of conversation with him without screaming profanities." Hermione sighed and ran her fingers through her curly tresses. She bit daintily into her muffin and promptly set it down. She looked casually over to the doors of the Great Hall, causing her eyes to widen to the size of dinner plates and then narrow quickly. "Great…" Hermione mumbled, staring over Ginny's shoulder. Ginny spun around and saw Draco striding over to the Gryffindor table, looking agitated. He was wearing a white button down shirt that was partially tucked into his dark trousers and had a black leather messenger bag strap slung across his chest.

"Speak of the devil!" Ginny smiled slightly as she turned back around to face Hermione. "Don't kill him, 'Mione. You want to _graduate_, remember?"

Draco walked over to Hermione and stopped in front of her stiffly.

"What do you want, ferret?" Hermione spat, observing him with distaste. Draco glared at her viciously.

"Dumbledore wants to speak with us after breakfast. _Together_." Draco rolled his eyes at the word 'together', and began to turn around.

"Wait-" Hermione replied, frustrated at his lack of explanation. Draco ignored her request and continued to walk away. Hermione jumped out of her chair, furious, and stalked after him. When she caught up with him after a few paces she grabbed his left arm, intending to swing him around. Impulsively, Draco snatched his arm away from her and turned around on the spot, causing Hermione to collide with him.

"Get off me, Granger," Draco growled, throwing his arms up in the air partially and backing up, allowing her to fall. Ohh- how she wanted to _hex_ his face off. Hermione felt her knees hit the solid floor with a sickening crack. Hermione's arm that held her wand twitched violently. _Don't hex him! Don't do it!_ It seemed like everyone in the Hall stopped talking and watched her. She heard a few shrill giggles coming from the Slytherin table. Her eyes naturally began to tear up from the pain. Forcing herself to not cry, she pulled herself back up and brushed off her skirt. Great, just great.

"You're a vile, evil git, Malfoy," Hermione whispered, her face flush. "Just tell me where we are supposed to meet so I don't have to look at your pathetic face anymore. You're quite sickening." Draco's face was void of emotion as he turned around a second time, leaving her without a response.

"That's just splendid, Malfoy! You're the best Head Boy Hogwarts has ever seen!" Hermione shouted after him. She moved to turn around, but her knees were weak and still stinging intensely from pain. Hermione gritted her teeth and walked back to her seat.

"What was all that about?" Ginny whispered, looking concerned. "Are your knees okay?" Hermione sat with her jaw clenched and observed her bleeding knee caps.

"I'm fine, I just fell after I ran into him. The idiot didn't even try and stop me. He was probably glad I fell in front of the entire Hall like a complete moron." Hermione scowled bitterly.

"Hermione, that's your name, right?" a foreign voice spoke behind her. Hermione spun around and recognized the boy slightly. He was a sixth year from Ravenclaw and he played Quidditch on their team as a Chaser. His sandy blonde hair hung partially in his face, giving him a look of boyish charm. He had dark blue eyes and a stunning smile. Hermione felt her face grow hot.

"Yes, I'm Hermione- and I'm sorry- I don't believe I know who you are…" It was half a lie. She recognized him, of course, (who wouldn't?) but she failed to remember his name. She smiled sweetly at him, hoping she didn't show how badly her knees were throbbing.

"I'm Ryan Dyer," he held his hand out to shake, and Hermione obliged. "I noticed Malfoy was being a jerk to you and I wanted to see if you were alright." Ryan blushed slightly and smiled. Hermione bit her bottom lip nervously.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she reassured him, "but you're right- Malfoy _is_ a jerk." She laughed and took her hands off her knees. They were already beginning to bruise. Ryan noticed her knees and his smile faded.

"You're not okay," he face became concerned and he kneeled down to have a better look at her.

"Hey!" Ron interjected, just noticing that Ryan was over at their table and down near Hermione's bare knees. "What the hell is that bloke doing down there?" He and Harry stood up quickly and glanced over the table.

"Sit down, you two!" Ginny reprimanded them. "Maybe if you had been paying closer attention you would know what's going on. Stop being idiots and mind your own business." Ron and Harry glared at her.

"Hermione _is_ our business," Ron glowered at his younger sister. "You need to learn to respect your elders, Ginny." Harry all of the sudden looked extremely uncomfortable and nervous. Ginny placed both her hands on the table and stood up to face Ron.

"Maybe I would if you gave me just an ounce of something I _could_ respect!" she hissed. Ron turned a furious shade of red, but failed to produce any kind of comeback. Instead he sat back down and turned to Harry.

"How the bloody hell do you deal with her?" Ron spat. Harry shrugged.

"It's because I'm cute," Ginny answered for him, sending daggers Harry's way now.

"Ouch!" Hermione cried.

"Sorry, it'll only hurt for a second…" Ryan apologized and muttered a spell over her knees. They healed almost instantly and Hermione poked them to test it.

"They don't hurt at all now!" she said, impressed with him. Ryan smiled at her warmly.

"Good, I'm glad I could help. I'm studying to become a Healer when I graduate…" Ryan explained. Harry and Ron rolled their eyes.

"I'm studying to be _Healer_!" Ron mimicked in a high voice. He and Harry tittered quietly in their seats. Ginny and Hermione glared at them.

"You know, _Ryan_," Hermione emphasized his name all the while still glaring at Harry and Ron, " I would love to get to know you a little better. Maybe we can go somewhere more private another day?" Ryan looked genuinely pleased with himself.

"Sure, I'll owl you!" he responded excitedly and got up to return to the Ravenclaw table.

Hermione turned to face her friends with a superior look on her face.

"Don't question me, I know what you're thinking." Hermione snapped and took another bite out of her muffin. Harry and Ron gaped at her.

"Just what the bloody-" Ron started angrily.

"Nope." Hermione cut him off briskly.

"Come on, now, Hermi-" Harry tried to complain.

"You'd better stop it." She warned, giving them _the look_. Ginny giggled in the seat next to her.

"Go, Hermione." Ginny whispered, picking up her bag as breakfast was ending. Hermione took one final bite out of her muffin to finish it off.

"I'll be off-" Hermione swallowed the muffin down heavily. "I've got to stalk Malfoy and find out where this meeting of ours is…"

Hermione spotted Draco's platinum hair out of the corner of her eye as he was exiting the Great Hall. She began to dash after him, hoping she wouldn't lose him. _What_ would Dumbledore _say _if his own Head Girl missed the first official meeting? He would most definitely strip her of her duties and maybe even expel her.

Hermione weaved her way expertly through the thick crowd trying to leave the Great Hall until she was in the corridor. She stood on her tip-toes trying to catch a glimpse of a tall, blonde haired Slytherin. Suddenly, she saw him at the end of the corridor as he entered a classroom on the right. Hermione sprinted down to the room and opened it quickly. She was panting slightly from running at full force down the hall and Draco sneered at her from his seat.

"Welcome, Miss Granger, please take a seat." Dumbledore kindly stated. Hermione chose one as far away from Draco as possible. "Well, I suppose we can get started as to end this as quickly as possible. I'm sure you're both extremely excited about getting to your first classes as Head Boy and Girl- are you alright, Mr.Malfoy?" Dumbledore paused to glance at Draco. In the middle of Dumbledore's sentence Draco had tried to stifle something between a snort and a cough.

"I'm superb," Draco drawled, totally unabashed at his behavior. Hermione was taken aback at his blatant disrespect and gaped at him for a second.

"Please continue, Professor. _I_ for one am _very_ excited for classes to begin." Hermione stated, holding her head high.

"Very good, Miss Granger. As you should be! I'm sure you're both aware that there are many new responsibilities and challenges that come along with being the Heads of the school. This year, the teachers and I agreed that with the two of you being such strong and capable leaders, we can try some new ideas this year." Dumbledore stopped for a brief second to gage their reactions. They were both paying close attention now, even Draco. "We have decided to once again forfeit this year's Quidditch games-"

"No!" Draco suddenly shouted, standing up from his chair. "Professor! You can't _do_ that! It's my _last year at Hogwarts_!" Dumbledore did not look phased by his outburst.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Malfoy. My deepest sympathies go with you, but we have alternatives this year. We have decided to incorporate sports that _all_ students can participate in. Here is a list-" Dumbledore handed each of them a piece of parchment.

Hermione and Draco scanned over the parchment quickly.

"Tennis?" Hermione pondered aloud.

"Football?" Draco asked in shock.

"Cricket?" Hermione was starting to get excited.

"Rugby?" Draco's face was beginning to show a small smile.

"_Tae kwon do_?" Hermione and Draco asked together, their faces unbelieving.

Dumbledore was beaming at them.

"I take it the sports are to your liking?" Dumbledore questioned. Hermione and Draco were speechless for a few seconds.

"But, Professor, were are we to find teachers who are able to train us for these new sports?" Hermione wondered.

"Excellent question. We've already employed them. They will be arriving any day now. I'm confident all the students will enjoy their company immensely." Dumbledore responded.

"Why can't we keep the Quidditch teams along with these?" Draco persisted.

"We considered it, but in the end we decided it was best all our students try something new. We want to broaden your horizons, Mr. Malfoy. Everyone at Hogwarts has watched Quidditch or played Quidditch at some point during their life. Introducing a new set of sports will allow everyone choices and give everyone the chance to play. Oh- did I say everyone? I meant fourth years and up, I'm sorry."

"What?" Hermione and Draco exclaimed. Hermione groaned slightly.

"This will cause a massive uproar, Professor!" Hermione insisted, her brow creased with worry. Dumbledore smiled at her.

"I'm sure they will get over the disappointment soon enough. After all, this is only a test for this year. We may or may not continue this in the years to come. Oh, and one last thing." Dumbledore paused again.

"Oh, not any more surprises…" Draco moaned, running his hand through his hair. Hermione watched him intently, totally unaware of her staring.

"All the fourth years and above will be _required_ to participate in one of the new sports, but you two… You will both sign up for _two_ of the new sports to encourage other students to follow in your footsteps." Dumbledore explained. Hermione was blushing like a mad woman.

"Um, Professor, I don't think that's such a wise idea. You see, I'm not very good at sports at _all_. I'm actually quite terrible at them. Please don't force me to embarrass myself in front of all the students at Hogwarts…" Hermione pleaded. Draco smirked as he watched her desperate attempt to persuade Dumbledore.

"Actually, Professor, I think it's a _splendid_ idea that the Heads sign up for two sports. It will most definitely encourage others to participate." Draco made a special point to sneer at Hermione while saying this. She glared at him with intense malice.

"Splendid! Then it's settled!" Dumbledore looked extremely thrilled with the idea of it all. "You also are aware of your duties to plan the school dances, decorations, and Hogsmeade trips?" Hermione suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to throw up. It was too much to try and take in all in one day. She had prepared herself to deal with planning the school dances and holidays, but never did she think she would have to participate in the embarrassment of the century. Sports and Hermione got along just as well as cats and water.

"Yes, Professor…" Hermione mumbled sadly.

"Here are the sports you two will be actively participating in, then," Dumbledore suddenly said. Hermione and Draco's heads snapped up.

"We've already been _assigned sports_?" Hermione cried, wringing her hands. Draco looked slightly unsettled.

"Why don't we get to choose the sports ourselves?" Draco questioned, his eyes narrowed. Dumbledore handed them each another piece of parchment while he explained.

"We chose which sports we anticipate to be the most popular between the males and females, and we placed you in those. You are actually both participating in one of them together." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Tennis and- oh no…" Hermione stopped in horror. "You can't be serious, Professor!"

"Rugby and _tae kwon do_?" Draco asked in confusion. "Why the hell am I in tae kwon do? I already know all that stuff-"

"Already know it, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore questioned, his white eyebrows arched in interest. To Hermione's surprise, Draco's cheeks looked like they held a slight blush.

"My father- he made me learn to fight with my hands as well as with my wand…" Draco muttered, showing a shy side Hermione was unaware existed. Dumbledore contemplated Draco's statement for a moment before speaking.

"Well, I think it's best you stay in the class. You can be an aid to your teacher, if nothing else. " Draco shrugged and slipped the papers into his book bag.

(…)

After the meeting, Hermione bustled as quickly as she could out the door to get to her first class, which happened to be Double Potions with the Slytherins. Cursing silently, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons, a few minutes late because of the meeting. Somehow miraculously, Draco had managed to already be seated in his chair and getting his supplies ready for the potion they were supposed to be brewing that day.

"Well, well, well, how nice of you to join us today, Miss Granger," Snape's icy voice carried across the stony room. "Five points from Gryffindor for your tardiness. Get to work with Mr. Malfoy on your potion, you two are the only ones without partners." Draco looked up at Snape with a horrified expression that was ignored. Hermione was scowling relentlessly, but made her way nevertheless to Draco's table. She set her bag down with a huff and glanced at the supplies laid out on the table.

"Let's just forget about earlier today and try to be civil for now for the sake of our _grade_," Hermione whispered through clenched teeth. Draco stopped slicing some flies to look at her coldly.

"Sorry to disappoint you but I don't civilize with _mudbloods_…" Draco snarled, starting to slice the flies again. Hermione seethed, but tried to stay calm.

"Well you'll just have to sanitize yourself after class, because you have no choice today. Move over and hand me the ginger root." Hermione spat.

"Don't order me around, mudblood." Draco didn't move or look up at her when he spoke. "I can do things to you that would make your hair curl. Not that it needs it- it looks like a bloody bird's nest the way it is."

"Careful who you threaten, Malfoy, I've studied curses more excruciating than anything you've ever experienced or can imagine." Hermione hissed.

"I doubt that, Granger. I seriously doubt that." Draco continued to concentrate on the potion and not look at her. It was really starting to irk Hermione.

"Oh right, I forgot you got beat up by a hippogriff that one year. If my memory is correct I believe you were screaming your pretty little blonde head off about _dying_ or something silly like that. Did that little papercut heal up that day or the next one?" Draco chopped one of the flies so hard it left a chip in the table. Hermione smirked as she started to grind the ginger root in a bowl.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I know it's a little late, but I tried really hard to get it posted before midnight. Oops. Anyway- thanks for all the wonderful feedback! I hope everyone is enjoying it so far. Just to clarify- the title of the story will play in a little later on. Oh also- a lot of people have been asking me about a sequel to Hermione's Blonde Secrets, but I don't think I'm going to do that- as of now. I'm thinking about a prequel that covers their year before she gets knocked up. Whadda ya think? LEMME KNOW! PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! Just press that little button down there and leave a little comment- it will make my day!

Lots of love,

shesmyfavorite


	3. Short Skirts

Chapter Three: Short Skirts

Over the next few days, Hermione began to notice a certain strangeness about Draco- other than his _usual_ strangeness, that is. He would amble into their common room in the mornings, only giving himself a miniscule amount of time to prepare himself for the day. He would sometimes have dark circles under his eyes and snap at Hermione with unnecessary harshness. She was, naturally, very used to his snarky comments, but sometimes he would snap at her for silly things such as _thunderous walking like a sodding troll_ or _breathing louder than a winded dragon with putrid breath._ Hermione had had quite enough of it, to say the least. I mean, seriously, she was a small girl who brushed her teeth religiously- if anyone was going to walk like a troll and smell like dragon spit, it was definitely not _her_. Hermione would sometimes pester Draco about his rudeness, but only received death threats when she did so. Some nights, Hermione noticed, Draco failed to even return to their common room at all. She figured he was most likely shacking up with one of his many hussies, and continued to remind him of his revocable privileges as Head Boy whenever given the opportunity.

There was only a day until their classes were scheduled to begin and Hermione felt her stomach clench up in extreme nervousness every time she thought about it. She was not wary of her classes starting because Hermione got along quite amiable with them, but she _was_ terrified of the new Hogwarts sports that were going to commence. Tennis practice was scheduled to begin at promptly eight o'clock in the morning on Monday, and Hermione was absolutely terrified. She had actually tried to play tennis before when she was younger, but she always became so nervous when the ball came flying at her head that she would yelp and duck, behaviors that resulted in many lost matches. Hermione fingered her new tennis racket gingerly, and inspected the strings. It appeared to be a quality racket, along with her new tennis uniforms. She was given three new, white pleated tennis skirts and white polyester shirts to match. Her white tennis sneakers were tucked underneath her bed, along with old schoolbooks and notebooks she would probably not open up for some time.

Sighing in a dejected and defeated sort of way, Hermione set her racket down and made to the bathroom to take a shower. Opening her bedroom door slowly and clenching her robe around her slight frame, Hermione lightly padded over to the bathroom. She had almost made it all the way over to the bathroom when she dropped her towel. As she leaned down to pick it up, the bathroom door swung open and Draco strode out, wearing only his boxers and clean droplets of water still clinging to his back. Once again, Hermione became slightly intoxicated with his marvelous scent. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes while she stood back up. Draco eyed her suspiciously.

"What's your problem, Granger?" Hermione's cheeks flushed, much to her dismay.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy. I was having a good morning up until now…" Draco cocked an eyebrow at her, and then mock bowed.

"Oh- _pardon_ me! I didn't mean for it to sound as though I actually _gave_ a fu-"

"Sod off Malfoy! Keep your stupid comments to yourself. Now, are you done with the bathroom or what?" Hermione almost shouted. Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well at least I already showered. I'll have to inform the house elves to thoroughly scrub the bath after you're done- you're practically dripping with filth." Draco stalked loudly into his bedroom, throwing Hermione one last nasty glare before shutting his door. Hermione's mouth was open, ready to retaliate, but he shut her out.

She seethed quietly as she started the shower tap. To make things that much worse, Draco had left the bathroom smelling like him- absolutely god-like.

The rest of Hermione's day went without incident. She ate breakfast with Ginny, Harry, and Ron and then spent the remainder of the day out on the grounds soaking up the last little remnants of warm weather and visiting Hagrid. The rest of the student body at Hogwarts had been informed of the changing sports policy and had, like predicted, been incredibly upset. That was two days ago, and most everyone had either shut up about it or gotten over it. Harry and Ron had decided to sign up for the Gryffindor rugby team, and try outs were being held Monday before classes. Ginny had teamed up with Hermione to play tennis, and was extremely enthusiastic about it. Most students were a tad bit withdrawn to the idea of learning muggle sports, but many had gotten over the initial shock and warmed to the idea.

Monday came all too soon for Hermione's liking. Her alarm began blaring at her to wake up, even though she felt as if her head had just graced her soft pillow. Groaning, Hermione rolled over and turned the alarm off. For a fleeting second, she actually considered not going to tennis. After the milli-second passed, Hermione was absolutely horrified with herself for even letting the idea dash through her brain. _You can't fail tennis, Hermione Granger- and you're damn well lucky for that. Otherwise you would be seriously jeopardizing your grade point average. _And Hermione was thankful for that. Dumbledore had shown her mercy by not making the sports a graded course. If he had, Hermione shuddered to think, she would have simply had to drop out. Hermione's didn't fail classes. It was as simple as that.

The white tennis skirt and shirt were laying neatly on a chair by the desk, and Hermione scowled as she proceeded to put them on. The skirt was shorter than what she normally would have approved of, resting a little above mid-thigh, but did not show enough of her legs for it to be scandalous. Pulling the polyester shirt over her head and throwing her curly tresses into a neat ponytail, Hermione took a deep breath. She bent over and dug her new tennis shoes out from underneith her bed, promising herself that if things were worse than she imagined, she would feed herself to the Whomping Willow and call it a day. It was quite sad really that she was having such deadly tenden

cies lately. It seemed she spend a great deal of her time either planning her Slytherin suitemate's demise or coming up with ridiculously extravagent ways to off herself to preserve her perfectionist record. Because honestly, what was graduating worth if you couldn't rub in everyone's faces that you had a higher grade point average than everyone combined? Nothing, that's what. And Hermione was well aware that she had expectations to succumb to, inside and outside of Hogwarts. Her peers and professors expected nothing less than gleaming perfectionism from her, and some officials in the Ministry were already contacting her about job offerings after she graduated. It was a lot of pressure to be put on a girl, but Hermione wouldn't have it any other way. Plus, Draco _Malfoy_ was her number one rival this year, and if she wanted to stick it to him in a way that would be preserved forever in history, there was no better way than to hand his ass to him in the academic sort of way. _Do it, Hermione, do it._

Finally, after tying her laces and finding a new sense of encouragement through Draco's possible humiliation and failure at the end of the year, Hermione grabbed her tennis racket and proceeded out of her room to where tennis practice was scheduled to take place.

At half past six, Draco awoke abruptly from his slumber. He had only been sleeping for three hours, at best, but he knew that once he was awake, there was no turning back. Grumpily shoving his down comforter off his body, Draco slowly stood and rubbed his eyes into the palms of his hands. He smelled like sweat and dirt- something he would have expected of someone like Hermione, not a superior as himself. Taking an unsteady step forward, Draco bumped the left side of his torso into one of his bed posts. Wincing out loud, Draco quickly lifted up his thermal to discover a nasty bruise the size of a dinner plate and a mixture of blotchy green, blue, black, and purple. Suddenly, everything that had happened from last night and continued into the wee hours of the morning came crashing to him and caused him to fully wake with a jolt.

"Bloody hell..." Draco murmered, running a tired hand through his dirty hair. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?

_Lucius gripped his only son's arm in practically a death lock as he dragged him through countless dark corridors. The two had not spoken in over half an hour, and Draco knew that a quiet Lucius was never a good Lucius. Usually when he was out of normal things to say or complain about, he just started yelling at Draco or whoever was closest to him about something silly. But tonight, Lucius was acting different, more reserved. Draco could tell he was hiding something massive, and it scared him to think of what it could possibly be. Everything Draco had worked towards over the summer and the beginning of the school year was at risk while Lucius dragged him expertly and silently around corners and through hallways. If Dumbledore knew where Draco was right now... Draco shuddered and did not finish the thought. Suddenly, Lucius stopped in front of a doorway that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Draco observed it with a frown, mentally noting that it looked somewhat familiar. _

_"We are here. Speak to no one unless directly spoken to," Lucius did not look at Draco while he spoke. There was an almost tangible edge of frostiness to his voice, more than usual. He was speaking to Draco as if his son was something he detested, as if he would rather be anywhere in the world then right there at that moment. Draco merely nodded, saying nothing. Lucius opened the door, and automatically let go of Draco's bicep. The intense chill of the room created a breeze-like feeling as it washed over Draco. And suddenly, before Draco could see or smell or hear anything, he knew something was horribly wrong. _

Shaking the fresh memory away, Draco searched for his wand until he found it under a blood-stained and ripped sweater on his chair. He muttered a charm over his bruise and felt an extreme heat and then icy cold wash over the injury. Gently prodding where the bruise was with his fingers, Draco felt nothing but skin on skin and knew without looking that the bruise was gone.

Changing into a pair of basketball shorts and jogging shoes, Draco quickly made his way out to the brand new morning to get a quick jog in before rugby tryouts started at eight.

Hermione mumbled quietly to herself the whole way over to the Gryffindor common room. She passed a few wandering students in the halls on her way and tried her best to smile in a friendly fashion at them. A Head Girl always knew how to set aside her own personal problems and perform her duties exceptionally. At least, that's what Hermione was under the impression Head Girls did. She didn't technically know for sure, but sometimes you just had to make things up as you went.

Ginny greeted her with a broad grin and a hug when she entered through the Gryffindor portrait. Harry and Ron were sitting sleepily on the plump sofas near the empty fireplace, dressed in- dare she utter it?

_Muggle clothes_.

Harry was wearing black cotton shorts and a muggle t-shirt, while Ron wore sweat pants and a wife beater. Hermione arched a brunette brow at the two of them. They looked horrible.

"Morning, boys. Sleep well?" she chimed, adding an unnecessary amount of cheer to her words. Ron glared at her through sleepy eyes.

"Remember how we've asked you not to speak until after nine thirty or ten in the mornings? You're voice is too sodding chipper... gives me a bloody headache..." Ron mumbled grumpily. Harry smiled weakly.

"Morning, 'Mione. Like your skirt..." he gave her another lopsided smile. She felt heat rise to her cheeks.

"You didn't say anything about my skirt," Ginny pouted slightly at Harry. "It's the same _sodding_ one." Harry glanced at Ginny nervously, and Hermione could practically see the wheels turning uselessly inside his head.

"Well, you're more of a skirt person than I am, Gin, so he's just more used to seeing you in one. Yours looks much cuter, and he probably didn't want to say anything in front of Joe Dirt over there..." Hermione trailed off and glanced at Ron. He wasn't even paying attention, and Hermione could almost swear that he had already fallen back asleep and was drooling slightly. Harry and Ginny gave Hermione odd looks.

"Who?" Harry asked, confused.

"Nevermind…" Hermione shook her head and smiled at them.

"I used a charm to make my skirt a little shorter..." Ginny smiled coyly and threw a quick glance to gauge Harry's reaction. Hermione looked closer at Ginny's skirt and noticed that it was, indeed, a good two or three inches shorter than her own.

"Goodness, Gin! Just know that if you keep giving all the milk away for free, then no one is going to want to buy the whole-" Hermione started.

"Yeah, yeah, are you all ready to head down?" Ginny rolled her eyes and changed the subject quickly. Harry smirked and stood up, stretching his arms out widely and accidently elbowing Ron in the face.

"Ugh! What the _hell_, Harry?" Ron sputtered, clutching his cheek tenderly and standing up.

"Sorry, mate. It wasn't on purpose." Harry apologized absently as he walked towards Ginny and Hermione.

"Let's get this over with quickly..." Hermione sighed as they all began to make their way out of the portrait, Ron in the back. Some of the other Gryffindors were just beginning to make their way down to the common room to follow them to the grounds. As they began walking down the corridor to the stairs, Ron stopped suddenly, a look of horrific embarrassment on his face.

"Oy, Ginny! What's with the skirt?"

After his three mile jog was over with, Draco showered quickly, only to get dirty almost immediately afterwards at rugby tryouts. He strode quickly down to the grounds, noticing Hermione had either already left or was running uncharacteristically late.

As he made his way over to where the rest of the Slytherin's were grouped around to start the tryouts, he noticed a new man he had never met before. After a few moments of confusion and loud talking, the man was able to get everyone under control. It was at that moment that Draco noticed not only the Slytherins, but also the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs were around.

"Who here already knows how to play rugby?" the man asked in a deep, loud voice. Draco, along with a handful of other guys, including Harry, raised their hands. "Alright, well today we're going to go over some of the basics and do a little fitness test to see who is already in playing condition, and who is not quite up to par. My name is Mark Jones, and I'm the new rugby coach here, by the way."

Draco continued to glance around the crowd to see who was brave enough to try out for the different rugby teams. Harry and Ron, of course, but who were they to pass up a chance at favoritism and glory?

"Alright, alright! Everyone group into your houses and we're going to start out with a light jog around the lake…" Draco noticed Ron throw a _we've totally got this _look at Harry, "five times." Coach Jones finished. Ron's jaw hit the ground.

"Five times?!" the crowd of boys was looking incredulously at the new coach, some with resentful looks. Draco leaned over to stretch his hamstrings before setting off at a good pace right behind the coach. Reluctantly, the rest of the guys began to follow…

(…)

Hermione was actually extremely proud of herself. Compared to the other girls who were trying out to play tennis, she appeared to be an expert. Relishing in her new found love of tennis, Hermione stopped practicing her serves to help Ginny who hadn't hit one yet.

"Ugh! I hate this!" Ginny cried, throwing her racket on the ground and her face flushed in anger.

"What seems to be the problem, Miss Weasley?" the new tennis coach, Kaylee Windsor, was a tall, slim blonde woman who was probably in her late twenties. All the girls loved and hated her at the same time. She was friendly and encouraging, but her tennis skirt showed quite a bit of leg, and the boys didn't fail to notice this as they jogged by every lap around the lake. Lavender and Parvati were giving her evil glares when her back was turned, but exploded with questions and admiration when she turned to them.

"I can't hit the sodding ball if my life depended on it!" Ginny screamed, jumping up and down on her racket until it was unrecognizably mangled. Coach Windsor let her finish, watching her quietly. When Ginny was done, the coach untucked her wand from her shorts and repaired the broken racket softly.

"Well, you certainly won't hit it with a broken racket. Here, let me watch you more carefully and I'll see what you're doing that's making it so you can't hit the ball…"

The rest of the tryouts went without any major hitches. After they were over, Coach Windsor pulled Hermione aside.

"You did wonderfully at practice today, Hermione. I'm glad to see that you finally overcame your fear of being hit in the face with the ball… that is quite hindering in this sport…" Coach Windsor smiled warmly at her. Hermione beamed.

"How did you know…" Hermione started.

"I'm a Seer- sorry, I should have told you earlier. But, on that same note, it is very important that you go tell Coach Jones that there is going to be an introductory meeting after dinner tonight and he isn't to miss it- for _any reason_. He'll understand…" Coach Windsor touched Hermione's back lightly before jogging quickly to the castle. Hermione frowned after her. What a weirdo.

Sighing, Hermione turned back around and headed towards the rugby field. Cradling her racket nervously, Hermione made her way closer and closer. She noticed, with a little chill, that the boys were playing a scrimmage match- shirts versus skins. Hermione stepped onto the playing field and was almost immediately tackled. She yelped loudly and dropped her racket in a frenzy. She glowered at the boy on the ground who almost pulverized her, and noticed that he was a sixth year Slytherin. The boy looked up and her and she saw his eyes travel quickly up and down her body. A smirk danced across his face for a second as he heaved himself up.

"Well, well, well… who would've thought the dirty mudblood had a bangin' body…" he whispered, sneering. Hermione instinctively backed away from him.

"Sod off, McValey…" Hermione hissed through her teeth. He started slowly coming towards her.

"You know, there are things I could do to you that would have you…" he made a gesture with his hands and growled deeply. Hermione felt nauseous.

"Leave her alone, Alec, she's not worth anything…" a familiar drawl came from the crowd. Alec glanced at Draco momentarily before deciding to ignore him completely. He made to grab Hermione's arm, but she cried out and pulled away. Before Hermione could say, "Holy Shit", Draco had landed a solid right hook to the boy's face. Blood spurted from the boy's nose and it seemed like they were brawling on the ground almost instantaneously.

A/N: My apologies over and over for not posting for so long. It's been a long semester… hopefully I will start being able to post more frequently once it's over (Dec.12), but until then, don't expect any miracles. ALSO I am in dire need of a beta!!! How do you get one of those? Please help me. Leave me some love with your reviews! I need encouragement!


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